Boundless

Chapter 5

1881

 

After the robbery, my mother barely let me leave the house. I was forced to spend my days sitting by the front window sewing or reading. My eighteenth birthday came and went.

I prepared myself for the teaching test. Miss Sidney had resigned so there was a teaching position opened. It seemed like fate. Then, I walked into church one Sunday and a group of girls was crowding around Katherine. She turned to me with a huge smile on her face. "I got the teaching job. Can you believe it!"

 Afterwards, I refused to study. What would studying do for me if I couldn't get a job? I began thinking of other ways to get Jenny the money. Meanwhile, my sister's health was deteriorating. Her skin had taken on a gray pallor and I could see the bones in her fingers. I spent all of my free time with her: reading, talking, sitting.

One sunny, late April morning, my mother walked into Jenny's room and announced that I would be going to the post office. I jumped at the chance to leave the house unaccompanied. I cast a guilty look at Jenny but she smiled and told me to go. I snatched the letter from Mother's hand and ran our the door.

I closed my eyes and sighed as the fresh air filled my lungs. The sun seemed brighter than before and the sky bluer.

As I approached the post office, I could see the raging Kansas River just beyond it. I loved walking by the river during the summer. The pull was too much. After I quickly posted the letter, I ran down the bank to find my favorite spot.  

A few trees hung over the water next to mine with the twisted trunk. Sunlight filtered between the branches, causing little patches of light and dark on the bank. The leaves rustled in the wind. I anticipated sitting in the shade and enjoying the seclusion I hadn't known for months. When I rounded my favorite tree's trunk I saw something I hadn't anticipated: someone else. He was my age or a little older. When he stood up I saw his face more clearly. I recognized him from somewhere. I was sure I would have recognized him if I'd seen him before. He had the kind of blue eyes that you never forgot.

I stood gawking at him for a few moments. "I'm sorry for disturbing you," I said quickly.

A slow smile curled his lips. "You weren't disturbing at all."

Where had I seen him before?

I glanced down at the place he had just been sitting. A revolver lay absent-mindedly against the tree's roots. I sucked in an audible breath.

The stranger followed my gaze. When he saw what I was looking at, his smile widened into something of amusement.

Anger flared up. Who was he to laugh at my fear? I quelled it, though. It's best not to yell violently at a man with a gun.

     Guns.

 That's how I recognized him.

 "Oh my God," I took a step back right into a tree. His expressive face took on a look of interest. "You're Samuel Hull."

I closed my eyes slowly. I shouldn't have told him I knew who he was.

But...there was always a chance he wasn't a Hull. Maybe the person standing in front of me just bore an uncanny resemblance.

"People call me Sam."

I just nodded.

 He reached down for the gun. My hands grabbed at the rough bark behind me.

"Is this what's scaring you?"

I just stared at the weapon in his hand.

"It's empty, see?" He opened it up to show me. "Believe me, if I wanted you dead you'd already be buried."

I wasn't the slightest bit reassured by that.

"Listen, I'm not going to hurt you. We were having such a nice conversation before. I don't want to let this," he held up the gun, "ruin it."

Seeing the empty gun made me more courageous. "Learning you were a murderer ruined it!"

His eyebrows shot up and I got some satisfaction out of surprising him. "I didn't volunteer that information."

"It doesn't matter." I stepped towards him slightly. He didn't move, just tossed the gun back onto the bank.

"Of course it does," he said smoothly, "maybe I'm not a murderer."

"The federal government seems to think so."

"Then, by all means, I'm a murderer."

I crossed my arms.

"We've talked about me long enough," he leaned slightly closer to me and I drew back.

"Now let's talk about you."

"Why? So you and your posse can hunt me down later?" I eyed him. "I don't think so. Now, Mr. Hull, if you'll excuse me." I turned to go but my shoe had other plans. My heel pitched me forward, knocking me off balance. An arm wrapped around my waist and brought me back to a standing position.

"See," he smiled slyly, "I save lives, too."

I glanced down at the dirt I would have landed in. "My life was hardly in danger."

"That's where you're wrong. You could have tripped then hit your head on the tree trunk then rolled into the river. Then, sadly, there'd be no more..." he bent and picked my monogrammed handkerchief off the ground, "RC."

I reached for the piece of cloth but he held it over his head. "If you aren't going to tell me your name, then I'll guess?" He asked as though he was obtaining permission but I knew he'd just continue on even if I told him no.

I shrugged and he sat back down in his original place. "Hmmm," he narrowed his eyes at my handkerchief. "Roberta Clark."

"No."

"Rose Carter."

I sat a little ways away from him. "No."

"Ruby Cooper."

I shook my head.

He sighed like guessing my name was the hardest thing he'd ever done.

"Rita Corcoran."

I giggled, "No."

He leaned towards me, "How about a hint."

"Why do you want to know so badly?"

"So I know who's keeping my secret."

"Maybe it's better for me if you didn't."

"I–," Whatever Sam was going to say next was interrupted by footsteps.

"Rebecca!" my mother called.

 I scrambled to my feet and motioned for Sam to hide.

"Rebecca Colson, do you realize you've been gone for nearly two hours?" I snuck a glance at Sam.

He was smiling victoriously. "What in Heaven's name have you been doing?"

"I just wanted to take a walk."

She narrowed her eyes at me. "Sometimes I wonder what's going on in that head of yours." She sighed and began walking back up the bank. I gave Sam one last look and hurried behind her.  

I was embarrassed that Sam had heard my mother reprimand me like that. Did he think I was childish now? Why did I even let myself stay so long?

I answered that question myself: because he was exciting and because I'd never spoken to an actual outlaw before.